No idea where this is, but it is a cool photo.  I feel like the caption should be "And that's why I had to swim for my canoe."  The boat just looks like it is itching to get in that rapid.

Just tried to delete one.  "We couldn't access the requested file."

I haven't received a message for a year and a half, and I don't think I've successfully sent one for that long, so I'm not sure that's working.  Viewing trip reports works ok, but I kind of gave up posting them myself because I have so much difficulty getting the photos to upload. I'm assuming that's a version-of-software issue that's beyond my technical knowledge (which is a low threshold to cross I'm afraid).  I've got access to two computers, one I can never get to upload photos to the site, the other I can but it is kind of random.  Sometimes I can get two or three uploaded, sometimes five or six, sometimes zero. 

Great trip report - thanks for sharing.  Getting to Boot is on my bucket list. 

My own experience on Godda was a little different than yours.  I was with a friend on that same westernmost campsite.  My friend was on his first camping trip.  We got on that site, and had a hard time getting the tent staked in because the the ground two inches of pine needles covering rock.  It was a beautiful day, and then...behind us, over the top of the hill, came a mass of very dark clouds.  It was blue sky being consumed by dark as evening came, and it didn't take long for things to get cooking.  Massive thunderstorm, and we were right under it, in the tent, getting illuminated and feeling the concussions of thunder all around us.  Robert asked if we should get out of the tent and into the woods, and I told him I figured we were as well off in the tent as we were in the woods, but I wasn't sure that was true.  Good times.

Relative to the aluminum canoe....I did the Dickson-Bonfield portage under a 78 pound Grumman....but I was 16 and more fit than fat.  Still, it was like walking through the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance.

The last time I portaged an aluminum canoe was in the 90's as well.  The stern deck got clogged with mud, so every time I picked up the boat, water was getting trapped in the back end, under the deck.  Took me several portages to realize why the boat was so heavy and imbalanced.

In spite of having a change of plans, your trip sounds like it was a successful one, and you sure had some nice weather for it.  BTW, your photos were fantastic.  Your photo of the heron was a dandy.  With so many great photos, that one stood out to me.  The reflection was really well-captured, and isn't something you always notice at the time.

Farm Lake, in the little bay very close to the portage to Kitty.  (I don't think I'm right, but it sure looks like that spot to me)

I'm a little surprised that Novacraft was not there.  

Love that one.  Actually got me a little bit - my dad loved eagles.  After he died in January 2023, eagles started showing up in places I had never seen them before.  On the way to the little cemetery where I buried his urn, one flew over the car.  On the drive home from our last trip to the family cottage, one flew right next to the car as we merged onto a highway.  When we sold that place and cleaned it out we had a sighting.  My wife and I bought our own cottage in the same area, and the first time we visited there we had a sighting near the place.  In 59 years I had never seen even one eagle in that area.  In all, we had five sightings that year, all at poignant moments, and I could not help but feel it was intentional.

So to me, it truly is a wondrous sight, The Eagle strong and free.  And I too pray that man will let him live for all eternity. 

Bo - That was great.  I liked it a lot and read it through a few times. 

In keeping with your "sound" theme, I just right now wrote this up (and then edited it further just before I posted...).  Whether it is any good or not I couldn't say, but it speaks to my very favorite sound in Algonquin, and a primary reason I love the place so dearly.  It absolutely blows me away that there are times when you can stand in the park and hear absolutely nothing - while knowing there is life on the move everywhere around you.

Blending In

Sounds abound from day to night
As far as I can hear
Paddle splash and beaver tail
Cackling Jays and chirping squirrels
The soft, sweet White-throated sparrow
 
Wind speaks through trees
Water speaks on shorelines
Rain speckles on the forest floor
Barred Owls shock me from sleep
 
The noise of camp
The clank of pots
The zippers rip, The Velcro tears
The snap of sticks for fire
 
Though the rarest of the sounds
And the reason I return, are
Brief moments, between the wind
When all living things around
For as far as I can think or see
Fall silent in the forest
 
A moment when there is no sound
Though life around abounds
The world is still
And silent
 
And I stand
Still
And I Listen
Unnoticed
Absorbed
Until my ears ring, almost burn
In the total, miraculous silence
Of sky, of stars, of sun, of life
My favorite sound of all

 

I'll echo that, Shayne.  The sensation as I drive south, away from the park, and more signs of civilization appear, more traffic, more chain stores, more everything, culminates in kind of an exasperated under-the-breath "damnit." when I circumvent Toronto.  Toronto is an awesome city, but it represents the complete return to population, machinery, plastic, asphalt and steel.  There's no turning back to the quiet at that point, and what remains of that marvelous solitude and peace slip away except for occasional scent of swamp gas coming up from filthy clothes in the back of the car to visit me.